


where you go, i'll always be

by avosettas



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Comfort Sex, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Established Relationship, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Praise Kink, Sans/Underfell Sans (Undertale)-centric, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Vaginal Sex, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: “th’ fuck ‘re you doin’?” Sans asks suddenly, voice slurred from sleep. Red certainly doesn’t startle, no way. “go to bed, dumbass.”“fuck off,” Red replies, leaning back on the headboard. “was worried about you.”
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	where you go, i'll always be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minuette16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuette16/gifts).



> [head in hands] i had this all ready to post. and then i accidentally deleted the whole thing and ao3 didnt save it to a draft. it's 1am
> 
> anywya. raffle prize #2! they are so in love and they show it by telling each other to go fuck themselves. i am no longer coherent. also i can't believe "sex as a coping mechanism" wasn't already a tag smh

“what’d you...” 

“don’t have to sound so disappointed.” 

“th’ fuck would i be disappointed for?” 

“‘m still here. or i relapsed. either or.” 

“get outta that head a’ yours for five minutes ‘nd c’mere so i can fix you up.” 

…

“‘m sorry.” 

“‘s fine. jus’ relax, try ‘nd breathe.” 

~

Later, Red sits beside Sans on the bed, holding his hand, fiddling with it like his phalanges are a puzzle to be solved. Sans is asleep, which is fine by him; hopefully he’ll sleep off this funk, and they can talk about it seriously tomorrow. 

His mate’s fingers are pliant in his hand, and Red takes his time running his roughened distals over Sans’s slightly smoother bones. It’s like twiddling his thumbs, except instead of using his own hands, he’s using Sans’s.

“th’ fuck ‘re you doin’?” Sans asks suddenly, voice slurred from sleep. Red certainly doesn’t startle, no way. “go to bed, dumbass.” 

“fuck off,” Red replies, leaning back on the headboard. Sans shifts a bit to rest his skull on Red’s hip, staring up at him with hazy, dim eyelights. “was worried about you.” 

“...’m fine,” Sans says after a moment, gaze flicking away. Red snorts, resting his hand on Sans’s head. 

“yeah, that’s why -” 

“don’t.” Sans’s voice is hard, so Red drops it instead of needling. He doesn’t need it right now; another day, maybe, when it will cheer him up. 

“sorry,” he grunts, idly rubbing his thumb over Sans’s coronal suture. “jus’ worried, y’know.” 

“don’t be,” Sans replies, muffled by the blankets. “‘s not worth it.” 

“‘course it is.” Maybe his response is a little gruff, but fuck it, he’s _right_. “you’re worth it. dunno how y’got it into your head that you’re not.” 

“flattery will get you nowhere,” Sans says, voice dull and monotonous. “seriously. don’t bother.” 

“would you shut the fuck up?” Red finally growls, though he’s proud to say he manages to control his instinct to lunge towards his mate, because that would certainly fuck things up. “talkin’ bad ‘bout my mate...” 

“ _i’m_ your mate, though,” and, whoop, there it is, _there’s_ the soft amusement in Sans’s voice. 

“yup.” Red pulls him up against his chest; Sans is light in arms, and he slumps when Red loosens his grip, resting his skull near Red’s collarbones. “means it’s even worse. no self depr’cation allowed.” 

Sans snorts, “hypocrite.” At least his mood seems to have improved, and that’s something, as far as Red’s concerned. 

The room is dark and warm, and Red’s content to sit with Sans in his arms for the rest of time, honestly. Beneath his hands, Sans’s ribs rise and fall with his breaths, not asleep, but relaxed. His hands rest atop Red’s own, tapping the bones there every so often with his fingers, and it’s nice. 

Red could probably fall asleep, and as it stands, he barely fights the purr that rumbles forth from beneath his ribs. Sans answers it with his own, slightly softer and a little stuttered, a little hesitant. Nevertheless, though, he’s still purring in answer, and it’s nothing short of wonderful. 

Eventually, Red’s eye sockets drift closed, and even though the headboard isn’t at all comfortable, he relaxes further against it. Sans’s smaller hands still hold onto his, less clutching them and more just gently curling around Red’s claws. 

And then Sans sort of… maneuvers Red’s hand, just the slightest bit. Red doesn’t really open his eyes, but he follows the motion all the same; past Sans’s sternum into the space between his pelvis and his floating ribs…

“how the fuck’re you horny?” Red snorts, and his laughter startles Sans enough that he _almost_ feels bad. Almost.

“i got one coping mechanism, and this is it,” Sans retorts, flopping backwards into Red’s chest once more. “and i’ve never seen you turn down a chance to get your dick wet.” 

“usually you aren’t comin’ down from a fuckin’ suicidal episode though,” Red grunts, and this time he _does_ feel bad, because Sans flinches.  
“you’re the one who told me to get outta my head,” Sans mutters accusingly. It would probably have more bite if he wasn’t still curled up against Red like a goddamned kitten. 

“kinda meant by sleepin’,” Red says, though he manhandles Sans into facing him anyway, letting his claws rest on his hips. “but, eh, you’re right. never can turn down a chance to get my dick wet. ‘nd can’t turn y’down, either, not when y’get all upset like that.” 

“what am i, a pity fuck?” Sans snorts, wedging his skull into the crook of Red’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his mate at the same time. 

“mm, nah.” Red lifts a hand from its perch on Sans’s ilium to fiddle with the collar around his neck. It’s deep blue, soft leather, and as long as Red is around, he’s going to make sure it never leaves Sans’s cervical vertebrae, except for showers. “you’re my pretty li’l mate. thought y’knew that.” 

“‘m not pretty,” said mate grunts into Red’s shoulder.

“handsome, then. no skin off’a my back what compliments y’prefer.” 

“you haven’t got any skin.” 

“exactly,” Red hums, caressing the bones hidden beneath Sans’s collar. “so it don’ matter, huh?” 

Sans leans back, and opens his mouth to respond, but whatever he planned on saying ends up being little more than a choked groan. Red’s taken full advantage of Sans’s retreat from the safety of his shoulder, once again manhandling Sans into his preferred position. 

That position turns out to be Sans, pressed into the pillows with Red above him, groaning as Red nips at his neck, with Red thumbing gently at his iliac crests. Sans gasps a bit, like a fish out of water, though the sound is short and choked. Unfortunately, it probably has nothing to do with arousal, as much as Red wishes it did. 

“dunno why y’see yourself so badly,” he mumbles, the gruff tone softened by Sans’s shirt. “i think you’re prob’bly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

The sound Sans lets out, a squeaky exhale somewhat like a balloon deflating, tells Red he’s on the right track, and he continues, “wouldn’t’ve collared you if i didn’t think that, though. s’not my style. y’know me, i don’t do things like that wi’out thinkin’ them over real carefully.” 

“bullshit,” Sans wheezes, but his grip on Red’s shoulders tightens to the point that if his pain response wasn’t muted by LV, Sans’s hands would hurt as badly as any claws. 

It’s exactly the sort of thing he puts up with for Sans, though. Red ignores the slight ache of muted pain, and shifts his hands to push Sans’s shirt up. Though he could probably spend all night caressing his iliac crests, and he is, in fact, loath to move his hands at all, Sans is already squirming a little impatiently beneath him. Cute little fucker. 

“specified shit like collaring, didn’t i?” Red mutters, studying Sans’s torso instead of his face. “s’not the sort of thing y’rush into. even if i was thinkin’ ‘bout it the very first time i fucked you.” Sans’s ribs are thinner than his own, delicate beneath his claws. His breath hitches when Red scrapes a claw over one of his floating ribs. 

“...kinda thought to m’self, stars, this fucker needs pr’tecting.” Sans makes a face at that, but doesn’t argue, which is a nice change. It might have something to do with Red’s claws scratching his sternum softly, more of a tactile, comforting sensation than a sexual one. “‘nd i know you’re plenty strong - ‘n fact, you’re fuckin’ scary strong sometimes - ‘nd i know y’got paps, too. didn’t really change the thought, though.” 

“obviously,” Sans replies breathlessly, face awash with shades of blue. “considering i’m wearin’ your collar right now -” His snark is cut off abruptly; Red prides himself on knowing every sensitive spot inside of Sans’s ribcage, and a well-placed prod to cartilage connecting his uppermost false rib to his vertebrae makes him choke on his words. 

“yeah,” Red says, after a moment’s pause in which the only noise is Sans’s strangled breathing and the sound of bone-on-bone. “looks real good on you.” He lets his hand trail back down to Sans’s pelvis, barely glancing down before snorting, “man, if i’d known a li’l sweet talk was the key to gettin’ in your pants all those months ago…” 

It’s not quite visible beneath the fabric of his sweatpants, but Red sees the soft, blue glow in Sans’s pelvis nonetheless. Sans groans a little when Red lets his hand ghost just above it, right under his waistband. 

“y’know, it’s real hard not to tease you,” Red muses idly, leaning backwards with Sans’s pants still in his grip. He tosses them on the bed besides them in a careless pile, though Sans doesn’t comment; instead, he rolls his eyelights, and then wraps his legs around Red, crossing his ankles behind his mate’s hips. 

“better not,” he replies. “i might just leave you high ‘nd _dry_.” 

“kinda late to be punning on your own joke about wet dicks, ain’t it?” Sans’s doesn’t respond to Red’s snark; the minute he opens his mouth, whatever he was going to say turns into a soft moan instead, prompted by Red’s claws in his coalescing magic. 

Red’s too entranced by the sight in front of him to continue his stream of grumbled praise, wiggling his fingers through the thick yet barely-existent magic to stroke the underside of Sans’s sacrum. The next time he lifts his hand, Sans’s magic snaps into existence, and he purrs before he can stop himself. 

“always so pretty,” he tells Sans, voice slightly garbled from his unconscious purring. Sans groans in response, a wordless plea for Red to touch him.

Red’s not going to make him wait any longer, though he does wait for Sans’s own responding purr to pick up again before reaching out with both hands. One goes for the kill, and the sudden touch to his clit makes Sans jolt - Red won’t deny that that makes him laugh, just a bit. His other hand rubs at the lips of Sans’s cunt, spreading him open slightly. 

Sans grunts a little, a tiny, choked off sound as Red slowly rubs his clit with the barest pressure from the pad of his distal. All the while, Red stares at him, leveling him with stare that somehow passes for disinterest, despite how intense it is. 

They stay like that for what feels like ages, at least to Sans, and eventually he begins rocking his hips up slightly into Red’s touch. It makes Red chuckle a bit, and his fingers slip to Sans’s entrance as he murmurs, “coulda told me y’wanted more, y’know.” 

The only response he gets is a soft, broken moan, coinciding with his finger pushing into Sans’s cunt. He can’t help but smile as Sans spread his legs ever so slightly wider at that, and so he slips in a second finger almost as easily as he had the first. 

A quiet noise comes from Sans’s throat, something that _might_ be Red’s name, or just nonsense moaning, but Red splays the fingers in his cunt nonetheless, humming a bit as he does so. 

“red,” Sans finally manages, and though Red looks up, he’s not nice enough to stop the gentle movement of his fingers. “fuck, just - fucking fuck me already.” 

“sure got a mouth on you,” Red observes, pulling his fingers out with a wet sound that makes Sans cringe in embarrassment. “lucky i love you more’n anything.” 

Sans doesn’t meet his eyes, instead pointedly focusing on how Red wipes his hand on his shorts. “love you too,” he mumbles.

Red purrs again - goddamned instinct, overriding his arguably clear thought process. It’s a familiar dance, almost muscle memory at this point, to kick his shorts off and drape himself over Sans. Sans pulls him down, clutching at him like driftwood in an inescapable rip current. 

The purr in his chest kicks up to a fever pitch when he rocks into Sans, pressing himself as close to his mate as he can possibly get. Sans pulls him closer until he’s completely bottomed out inside him, though Red gets the feeling that if that weren’t a limitation, Sans would still be dragging him closer. 

He can barely thrust, held close as he is, but Red knows that both of them prefer it to whatever rough pace he’d usually default to. He grunts into Sans’s shoulder as he rocks the two of them against the bed, following the rhythm of Sans’s soft pants and groans. 

Red’s orgasm is rather gentle and not particularly satisfying, in his opinion, though he chases it with a huffed groan anyway, rocking into Sans a little harder, a little more erratically. Sans lets out a moan as he cums, clutching Red ever closer, fingers twitching where they’re buried in Red’s shirt. 

He doesn’t let Red pull away, so Red only pulls out, and then slumps on top of Sans. Neither of them are going to want to clean, but he doesn’t relish the idea of dry cum on his pelvis either…

Fingers stroke the back of his skull, Red nuzzles into Sans’s shoulder to keep himself from laughing aloud at their clumsiness. If Sans is already half asleep, crusty pelvises are their future. 

It’s not like Red cared much about cleanliness, though, and if skipping a shower always meant Sans would get more sleep, he’d gladly scrape crusted bodily fluids off his bones every single day.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @avosettas


End file.
